


Frey Blue

by Kingmaking



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Casterly Rock, Future Fic, Gen, House Lannister, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingmaking/pseuds/Kingmaking
Summary: Every roof in Lannisport is red, not that she’s often given the chance to look upon the city. They fear she might jump, and make a red puddle of herself on the stones below.Roslin in Casterly Rock.





	Frey Blue

Roslin can go days without meeting a Lannister, here. She can go leagues -- literally, for the castle stretches wider, higher and deeper than she could ever have dreamed. The room she had back at the Crossing would fit inside the Rock a hundred times over, on this floor alone. She pictures it, at night, lying in the plush bed they’ve given her, staring at the canopy above. It shows the stars and sea, and Ser Kevan’s wife insisted they had it made for her, as if she had the energy to care about fabric now that-

Above the canopy is hard, cold stone. Above the stone are floors upon floors of grand, golden, gilded rooms, filled with Lannisters and Lannister red. The color has become offensive to Roslin, but it cannot be escaped, not here. Red light when the sun disappears into the Sunset Sea; red hair for her daughter, brighter than Edmure’s by half. And nigh every roof in Lannisport is red, not that she’s often given the chance to look upon the city. They fear she might jump, and make a red puddle of herself on the stones below. Worse yet, they fear she might jump with her Stella. They fear she might convince Jeyne to jump, as if  _Roslin_ was the unstable one.

She might jump and leave Jeyne behind, but she could never abandon her daughter. It’s the only truth of Roslin’s life, now. This, and the promise made to her by an oathbreaker, over a year past, that Edmure would be returned to her once the King’s Peace had been restored. Everywhere. But it wouldn’t be for many years, and thus her brothers and nephews kept her Edmure in Riverrun, the fallen Riverrun, to make sure his bannermen (former, Former, House Tully had been torn asunder) didn’t march for this or that pretender. And thus it’d been two years, and she had no doubt Edmure loathed her as much as she loved him.

Aside from a canopy of stars and dusty sea, Dorna Swyft has given her unprecedented freedom. She can sleep and bathe and eat and play the harp for the woman’s little daughter, Janei, who is five and has named herself Stella’s protector, calling her  _Cousin_. And Lady Dorna, with her sweet manners and her gentle smiles, oft called Roslin  _Sweet girl_ and  _Dear child_ and sometimes  _Daughter_ , and Roslin had allowed herself to melt just a bit, move just one inch, because there was nothing at the Crossing for her and there was nothing in Riverrun for her and there was nothing  _anywhere_ for her, really, safe here. Dorna, as unchanging in her easy mood as the Rock itself, often invited Roslin to sup with her, Janei and the young Lord Martyn, the only son left to her. He would be fifteen soon, and he smiled and danced and bought his mother flowers down in Lannisport.

Roslin likes him. She likes Dorna Swyft, and elbow-high Janei, and the guard who shadows her around the Rock, and the septa who’s dedicated her days to Stella. Hatred is exhausting; if she gave herself over to hatred, she would never stop, and when they returned Edmure to her, he would find nothing but ashes -- or ice. Roslin never knew whether she was cold or warm for half a year, after birthing her daughter.

She must like, and live. Thus, she likes the fish and the wine and the sunset and the oppressive, choking, slow-killing feeling of so much accursed  _stone_ above under inside her, and sometimes wishes it would collapse and smother everyone and everything, and sometimes wishes it would flow red red red Lannister red with Lannister blood the way the Crossing did, and sometimes wishes it could become  _home_ , for her and Stella both, because there’s nothing anywhere else for them.

It doesn’t. It’s just stone, unfeeling…

But not as unfeeling as Jeyne.

They’ve kept Roslin alive because they promised her lord Father, and she’s been so very good indeed, never plotting or scheming, bowing to every Lannister, saying  _Please_ and  _Thank you_ as they stripped Edmure of his lordship (and his family), as they stripped Hostella of her birthright, because it was better than stabbing her fifty times like they’d done to another little girl, once.  _Please_ and  _Thank you_ , because if she’d been a boy (Hoster? No, Hosteen -- memory without sorrow) they would’ve killed her, but now she can live and grow up to marry Ty Frey.

They’ve kept Roslin and Hostella alive, and they’ve kept them  _here_ (stone above under inside Red red red), so that men of honour like Blackwood and Mallister cannot rise in her name. Her daughter would be the Lady of Riverrun, one day, but she would never be Lady  _Tully_. And she would be Edmure’s only child -- this maesters had advised, and Lannisters commanded. This, Roslin can understand. This, she can teach Stella, once she’s of age.

What she cannot understand, or teach, is why they’ve kept poor Jeyne. There was no wealth to be found at the Crag, and her uncle’s new lordship of Castamere is but a maze of drowned out chambers and faded glory, but the Lannisters had made good on the promises made before the Red W-

Before the wedding. They always made good on promises. (Roslin cannot stand the other saying.) Thus Raynald had wed a Lantell and young Eleyna had wed a Lannett, and Rollam was fostering with a Vikary, but for Jeyne? Jeyne, dirty from the half-year she had spent as the Stark queen; Jeyne, whose belly had stayed flat, but who had wolves in her now, who howled and scratched at the stone. Roslin had hated her once, but now clinged to her, because they’d lost so much, they were  _alone_ , there was nothing else for them and maybe-

But Jeyne would have none of her. Edmure had described the queen as kind and good, when Roslin had asked, that night (she had to ask); but the widow… The widow looked at Hostella with hungry eyes, at the sea -- long drop -- with longing, at the rest with nothing. Nothing.

Jeyne is a prize of war. They can keep her at the Rock for twenty years and think nothing of it; they have that luxury. And Jeyne has the luxury of anger hatred wolves Red red red. Roslin has a comfortable bed, the promise of reuniting with Edmure, one day, and Hostella.

Roslin goes days without meeting a Lannister, here. She learns not to choke and suffocate whenever she pictures the gilded city above her -- only Lannisters can love the Rock, they say, and she is but a Frey, a Tully, a hostage. Hostella learns to say  _Casterly_ (Cassely cassely cassely), and Jeyne learns to earn smiles from golden-haired Martyn, who learns never to drink anything she gives him. And once it’s been two years since the R-

Since the wedding, Roslin’s wedding, the Lannisters send ravens out to find Jeyne a husband, preferably stupid and glad with his lot. Roslin is given a balcony, although she’s only allowed to step foot on it with Dorna or Damion or Darlessa. She watches the horizon for Edmure.

Eventually, Hostella can say  _Casterly_ perfectly.

**Author's Note:**

> 'how does this fit in adwd?' It doesn't shhh
> 
> Find me on Twitter! ([x](https://twitter.com/targmother)) ✨


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